Flesh For The Dead
by saamx
Summary: If fear of consequence prevents you from leaving the city of your comfort, the wilderness of your intuition will be infeasible and thin. The Dixon duo knew from the start to trust no one and forget nothing. But still they found themselves at the side of a survivor. And no matter the ending, it was the start of a changing world. Daryl/Meryl [Female Merle]
1. The Walking Plague

**Summary:** _If fear of consequence prevents you from leaving the city of your comfort, the wilderness of your intuition will be infeasible and thin. The Dixon duo knew from the start to trust no one and forget nothing. But still they found themselves at the side of a survivor. And no matter the ending, it was the start of a changing world. _

**Pairing:**_ Daryl Dixon / Meryl Dixon [female]_

**Category:** Family / Adventure / Hurt / Comfort / Horror

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**The Walking Plague**

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_The United States Government has officially declared a worldwide state of emergency after being pressured by members of congress to implement Project MOD. With great reluctance, Private James Thompson reports that in an apocalyptic event, Project MOD will provide military support to the civilian authorities._

"_Project MOD is not to be taken lightly," He began. "It is a highly dangerous maneuver which could take the lives of many innocent men, women and children. At present, we have stationed over one hundred military personnel throughout the streets of our nation. There aim is to take those civilians and move them to designated safe zones. Once each area has been cleared out, government agencies – including the FBI and other police task forces, will wipe out those infected by the virus"._

_Doctor Candace Jenner, a leading scientific researcher and CEO at the Centre of Disease Control has declared this virus to be deadly and easily attained._

"_The characteristics of this virus is phenomenal but highly alarming," She paused. "I have studied the behavioral aspects of those infected and have multiple theories but no solid evidence. What we do know is that being in close contact with those infected contracts the virus. How it contracts, we are uncertain. It attacks the ventromedial hypothalamus or, in common terms, the brain. The body shuts down after a certain period of time; leaving the victim to experience high fevers, muscle ache, and hallucinations. It could take minutes or even hours for somebody to feel the symptoms and for the virus to consume the individual."_

_Captain Erick Mendez with the FBI encourages parents to allow their children to be armed._

"_These are very dangerous times. We don't know if these people can be saved, but the more we protect, the more that survive. I'm not saying that your children should be armed with guns or knifes. A simple baseball bat will do justice." _

_There are heavy delays on major freeways, incl-_

The reporters voice began to crackle, a long eerie sound droning from the radio. She glanced around the sterile room, noting as the lights flickered and the power slowly faded away. She shook her head and pushed her bangs from her brown eyes. Her hair was clammy with sweat, dirt and other disgusting stuff. She briefly wondered whether the water was on.

Deciding to give it a try, she walked over to the small bathroom before pushing open the door and stepping inside. It was pitch black when she entered so she was forced to leave the door opened, emitting the natural light that creped through the window. To her astonishment, the cold water was still on. She hurriedly tossed her boots, cargo pants, black jacket and white t-shirt aside. She didn't even flinch as the cold water cascaded down her sun kissed skin. The water was a much greater improvement then aimlessly tossing bottled water over her head, trying to rid the tangles and gunk within the strands.

Instead, she let her mind wonder.

Having come from the fifth floor of the hospital, she stumbled across this room quite by accident. She had noted that someone or _something_ had tried sealing this room off, using chairs and gurneys to barricade the door. Thinking that this may had been an alternate route out of here, she quickly dragged the items away only to come across a middle aged man, pale and ghastly looking, with a gun shot wound to his abdomen. She wasn't sure what probed her to stay. But as she contemplated her options, she wondered what was happening. Military where roaming around the hospital as they searched for any living patients. They had yet to bother with the psychiatric ward. She was able to escape her bindings, find her effects, and leave without being spotted.

But now she was stuck. What would happen to this man if she left? She didn't particularly care if he survived or not. Safety in numbers was the only thought prompting her to stay put and to be patient as he drifted out of his comatose state. He had begun mumbling, telling something to someone named Shane. That was almost half an hour ago.

Sighing, she turned off the water. She reached for a nearby towel when she spotted him. He was leaning heavily against his IV stand, panting as he tried to steady his rapid breathing. Quickly, she wrapped the towel around her before bending down and throwing a boot at his shoulder. He stumbled back slowly and she slammed the door close. Without worrying about the darkness, she searched for her clothes – taking only a few minutes to get dressed.

When she next saw him, he was in the hallway. She huffed and he turned around cautiously. He looked apologetically at the young woman before him. She huffed again.

"Have somethin' yah wanna say to me?" he frowned sheepishly, moving his stand forward.

"S-Sorry … thought you where a nurse."

She stared into his eyes, seeing nothing but honesty. She signed softly, shrugging her shoulders and taking two steps forward. His gown was partially opened and his hairy chest peeked out behind his bandages, which, surprisingly, covered his well-defined stomach muscles. There was a slight limp as he walked but he didn't seem to notice.

Whilst she looked him over, he did the same. Her brown locks where dripping water onto the ground beneath her, stopping mid back. Her clothes clung to her body like a second skin. It was apparent that she dressed in a hurry, not bothering to wipe herself dry. The man almost chuckled. He thought of his son and how he had refused to dry himself until the age of ten, saying that his hair looked a lot like his when it was wet.

"If you're not a nurse, then why are you here?" she stared at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Same as you, I guess. Seeking answers, visiting patients, monthly checkups…" she wasn't about to tell him she was a permanent resident within this hospital's loony bin.

He contemplated her words. "Answers? Answers for what?"

She smirked and beckoned him over as she started walking off in the direction of the exit. He followed her slowly, glancing around at the carnage that lay beneath them. The hospital looked as though a riot had occurred within its walls just moments after his awakening. Blood splattered the wall, furniture was turned over and the halls remained deserted – apart from the decaying corpse behind the ER doors.

She led him further down the hall and towards the two doors. When he caught up, he looked at the gun shot holes across the right and then towards pools of blood below his feet. He was careful to watch where he stood as he walked without shoes.

"It's not the livin' yah have to fear no more."

She watched him take a few staggering steps back, staring in horror as something banged from the other side, forcing the door forward and reaching through. Without warning, he began walking backwards before making his way towards the elevators. She sighed drastically and followed after him, making her way down the stairs behind him.

He continued walking, trying to withhold the contents of his stomach. Bodies lay scattered across the fields, a thin bed sheet covering their bodies. He had glanced back at the girl noting that she seemed relatively calm given their predicament. He shook his head and headed down the road. She called out to him.

"Where are yah goin'?"

"My wife, my son. They could be alive. They could be here," she raised an eyebrow towards the man. He raised one back.

"What makes yah think that?" she went to stand beside him.

"I don't know," he raised a hand to his hair, then to his chin. He looked at the woman and then forwards. A red bicycle lay not far from here.

She scoffed. "Do yah even know what's happenin'? Dead are walkin' the earth and yah not askin' me nothin'. Think yah know what's out there, huh?"

"I don't even know your name, let alone what's been happening the last couple of weeks," he admitted, walking forward.

"So yah just gonna keep movin'?" she shook her head incredulously.

"Do you have a problem with that?"

He bent down slowly and grasped the bicycle's handles. She almost chuckled when the groaning of a young, dead girl knocked him to the ground. He crawled backwards as she stepped forward, reaching for her hunters' knife concealed at her waist.

"Only if yah kill yourself from blind ignorance," she thrust the blade into her head. He yelled out in protest but she didn't pull back.

"She's already dead. Don't matter no more."

Pulling the blade out, she helped the man stand. She smirked.

"Wanna talk yet?"

He contemplated her words, staring down towards the young adolescent whose head was brutally stabbed not moments ago. He sighed and looked away. This was not his week.

"Fine, but not now. We head to my house and then we'll talk."

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	2. Days Gone Bye

**Chapter Two**

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**Days Gone Bye**

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She wasn't surprised to see that no one was there to greet them at the front door when they arrived. Her companion was rattled, to say at least, when neither wife nor son was present. She wondered for a moment whether this was what he was used to. Coming home – from whatever he did, to have his loving wife and adoring child greet him after a long days work. Glass of wine and dinner on the table…

It sounded cheesy.

The thought made her stomach churn.

Opening containers, tossing pillows and pocketing several useful items that included his pistol and pocketknife, she walked over towards the dining room. She found an empty backpack on the ground and thought it may be useful. She tossed her newly acquired gun and knife into her bag as well as some granola bars, bottled water and medicine from the kitchen pantry. She was about to continue on to the bathroom when he suddenly appeared, elated and oblivious to what she was doing.

"They're alive," he smiled at the brunette.

"Don't yah think th-"

"My wedding band. It's gone. Why else would it be missing? Lori must have taken it with her when Carl and her left," he sounded so hopeful, so relieved. It was as though an enormous weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

She only shook her head. "So theirs Lori whose yah wife, your boy Carl and …what's your name, anyways? We never did do any introductions…"

"Rick. Rick Grimes," he looked towards her. He waited patiently for her to do the same.

"Meryl. Meryl Dixon."

He scrunched up his nose as though he was trying to recall a distant memory. After a few moments, realization suddenly hit. "You where a patient at that hospital!"

Meryl looked stunned. "Ho-"

"I followed your case. You had attacked your father on August fifteenth about four years ago. Pleaded insanity, sentenced to twenty years at the psychiatric ward with no parole. I was one of the officers who were consulted with. My partner, Shane was the leading officer. Said you did a number on your old man."

Meryl stared at Rick, flabbergasted. Not even her brother knew what had happened. Yet this man, this _stranger_, knew her entire life story. It left her feeling uncomfortable and strangely aggravated. "Don't believe all that yah hear. Words can be muddled up."

"But you did attack him? Your old man?" He began searching through the kitchen, pocketing a few cans of beans and spaghetti.

"What does it matter? The bastards probably dead or drunk off his ass," Meryl headed into one of the bedrooms, being careful to avoid stepping on toy cars and building blocks as she stepped further into the room. Rick watched her go, an uneasy air spreading between them. He remembered his conversation with Shane.

"_How old is she?" Shane glanced towards his friend and colleague, Rick._

"_About to turn thirty," he shook his head sadly, staring at the picture Rick held in his hands._

_Rick noticed this. "What did she have to say for herself?"_

"_Nothing," Shane ran a hand through his black hair with a small grunt._

"_Nothing? Nothing at all?" Rick raised his eyebrows, looking at the reports._

"_Hasn't said a word since we took her in. Think's she doing herself a favor by rending herself mute," Shane sat down on the edge of the desk. _

_Rick shrugged his shoulders. "Actions can speak louder then words."_

"_But that's the thing! She hasn't spoken or moved from that seat! Not even her brother, Daryl, has tried to contact her."_

"_Maybe he blames her?"_

"_I don't know, Rick. Her neighbors tell me that those two where two peas in a pod. As thick as bones," Rick's frowned deepened._

"_Do you think she done it?"_

"_There is no doubt on my mind. She done it, it was defiantly her. He was pretty beat up when we found him. Her clothes where covered in that mans blood!"_

_Rick put a hand on Shane's shoulder. "There's something else, isn't their? Something you're not telling me." _

_Shane sighed. "The blood work."_

"_What about it?"_

"_It wasn't just his," Rick reached for another document._

"_Look," once Rick had the correct document, Shane directed him with his finger as he spoke._

"_Three different blood types from three different people. One of them we know to be her father, the second from herself an a third un-identified individual."_

"_Her brother?"_

"_Nope. We have a sample in his file. Didn't match."_

_Rick and Shane looked at one another. "An accomplice, perhaps?"_

"_But whom?"_

They where never able to identify the third individual. The court had eventually dismissed the evidence and processed with the trial. Rick thought it to be unfair, but he kept his mouth shut. After all, he was just a consultant on this case.

"We better get movin'."

Meryl appeared moments later, her backpack – _Carl's _backpack filled with clothes and other supplies. Rick nodded and led her out of his house. With one final glance in its direction, they continued down the street.

A person stood not even ten feet away.

"What's he doing?" Meryl held a hand out to stop him as he went to approach the young man. Rick frowned and glanced sideways.

"Could be dead," he nodded and quietly walked back. They where just about to walk into a tree when a young boy, about ten years old, hit Rick over the head with a baseball bat before turning on Meryl.

She reacted quickly, grabbing the bat and twisting it around. The kid gasped and let go, running back towards the house. Another man had caught Meryl's attention as he pulled the trigger towards the dead man. She swore loudly and pointed an accusing finger at the older gentleman. "Don't fuckin' waste ammo!"

He looked startled as she reprimanded him. "Who are you?"

He pulled his gun on Meryl. She laughed softly as she swung his son's baseball bat lazily in her hands; Rick was out cold on the grass.

"Doesn't matter. Got myself a prize," she as aggravating him. A big smile on her face.

"Was pretty easy to get a hold off. Boy was a wimp."

The man removed the safety of his gun. "What have you done to my boy?"

"What did your boy do to my companion?"

He glanced down towards Rick and then back up towards her. He could see movement within the house and smirked. "Knocked him out cold."

"Well, that's not fair."

She went to swing at him, but stopped just before the bat should have connected with his head. "He needs medical help. Your gonna be the one to help him."

"And if I say no?"

She laughed hauntingly. "I won't miss next time."

* * *

Meryl soon learnt that Morgan wasn't taking her threat very lightly.

Rick was immediately taken to the master bedroom where Morgan spent almost an hour inspecting him for any bites or lacerations, changing bandages and moving any weapons from his person. Meryl had been directed into a small sitting room, just off the main family room. Once there, Morgan instructed her to sit on a chair as he bound her hands and feet together with electric cable. She laughed at his morbid expression.

"Not very original," she commented, testing her bindings.

She then sat there for the next two hours, Morgan coming to check on her occasionally. When he would leave, Meryl would begin loosening her restraints. At first, she felt nothing but the friction. That was until the rubber began removing the top layers of skin from her wrists. After another thirty minutes, the cord was almost loose enough for her to get her wrist through when Morgan walked inside.

"He's awake," Meryl stopped moving.

"Says he got shot. Not very forthcoming about his adventures."

She shrugged, remembering that Rick was a cop. "So?"

"What do you know about him? By the looks of things, he hasn't been travelling for long. I thought that you two where travelling together. But it seems to me that neither of you know nothing about one another. Care to explain that?"

She frowned. "So fuckin' what? Don't have to explain nothin' to yah."

Morgan held up his pocketknife, just below her jaw. "You don't have any options."

"I have many," as though to demonstrate, Meryl pulled her wrists out of her binds. She reached for Morgan's knife, twisting his wrist and watching as the silver blade fell onto the wooden floor beneath them. He grunted, grabbing ahold of her shoulders before pushing her back. She fought back, momentarily losing her footing and falling onto Morgan who hit the ground with a loud 'thud'.

"Dad?" Duane shouted, his footsteps echoing down the call.

"Meryl?" Rick called out, following the young boy.

She punched Morgan squarely in the jaw. In return, Morgan grabbed her hair and tried yanking her backwards before kneeing her in the stomach. She rolled off of him with a small grunt, his hands reaching for his knife.

Duane halted at the door. "Dad!"

"Stay back son!" Rick appeared then, glancing down at Meryl who was just about to punch Morgan in the ribs. He shouted for her to stop, taking a few slow steps forward.

Morgan got to his feet and walked over to his son. He started down towards Meryl who was concentrating on removing the binds around her legs. Rick had tried to help, but gave up when his wounds prevented him from doing so. She was up on her feet only moments later, ignoring Rick's questions and glaring daggers towards Morgan and son.

Duane pulled his father further away.

"What happened?" Rick turned his questions to Morgan.

"It was nothing."

Meryl scoffed and Rick narrowed his eyes. They waited until they where alone before speaking to his hotheaded companion. "What. Happened?"

"What's it matter?" She rubbed her wrists, a stinging sensation shooting up her arms.

"It matters because we are guests here," Meryl wanted to laugh at Rick's morality.

"It's not there house."

"Doesn't matter. I knew the owners, they wouldn't have wanted this."

Meryl shook her head, temper rising. "Pretty sure yah wife didn't want yah getting' shot."

Rick scowled. "That has nothing to do with this. I was injured in the line of work. It happens time from time. We move on. I knew what I was signing up for."

"I knew what I was fightin' for," She glanced down at the cords beneath their feet.

"You don't play nicely with others, I get that. But we don't know what's happening out there and Morgan and his kid are our only hope. You either respect his wishes or keep your damn mouth shut. Do you understand?"

Meryl flipped him off. "I don't need you or yah rules."

She walked over to where her backpack lay before holstering it over her shoulders. She then continued down the hallway until she found Duane and Morgan cooking dinner. They looked at her apprehensively.

"Are you heading out?" Morgan stared at Meryl.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Don't need me 'ere."

"There are walkers flooding the streets!" He glanced back at his son and then to Rick who had just appeared. He looked at Meryl with a saddened expression.

Meryl only shrugged and walked towards the front door. Rick followed after her.

"Are you sure about this?" He had questioned her, hoping she would reconsider his request.

"Fuckin' nobody tells Meryl Dixon what to do."

Rick sighed. "Where are you going to go?"

"Wherever my legs take me."

"Are you sure that's wise?"

Meryl turned the door handle and took a small step forwards before turning towards Rick.

"I'll manage."

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**Hope you're enjoying so far.**

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	3. Shooting Foliage

**Chapter Three**

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**Shooting Foliage**

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The road was clear as far as she could see. She had taken the bicycle that had lolled abandoned on Morgan's front lawn, holstered her exhausted limbs over the metal frame, and peddled. Peddled as far as she could, away from the walkers and into the safety of the trees. Her brother had told her how to survive within the woods, for weeks at end. Told her what berries to eat and what to not to eat, how to hunt, what to hunt and what not to hunt.

So she climbed up a large tree. Used her bag as a pillow and slept with one eye open. A few times she had close calls with walkers, seeing a few of them come near before walking away. She was careful to ration her food, although scarce. She didn't have her cross bow, or a decent weapon to go hunting with so granola was the next best substitute to the numerous rabbits that ran past.

Come morning, Meryl had drifted off into a light slumber when she heard it.

A gunshot, not too far from where she slept.

"Shit!" She made her way down the tree, grabbing the bicycle and heading further into the woods. As the sunshine radiated down through the gaps within the trees, it became obvious that the walkers nearby had heard the same noise she heard and had decided to follow – unknowingly in her direction.

Meryl ditched the bicycle soon after. Running through the foliage and towards any open clearings. She had grabbed her hunter's knife from her backpack as soon as she started running. A walker appeared moments later, grabbing at her wrists. She thrust her blade into its shoulder before pushing back and falling to the floor. The walker followed after, clawing at her ankles and dragging her further back. Meryl grunted and lifted her torso up, using her left hand to push its head back before thrusting her blade deep into the remainder of its eyes. A horrible screech engulfed the air before collapsing on top of her. She had just managed to push the body off of her as another walker appeared, then another, and another.

She scrambled to her feet and approached the first walker, taking it out in one easy blow. Meryl struggled to defend herself as two walkers engaged her from both sides. By the time she pushed one walker away from her, the other was grabbing at her hair or trying to claw at her arms. She threw her leg back, sweeping its leg. She then turned to the other walker and jabbed the knife into its chest. She removed her blade and went to strike at its head but found herself falling to the ground.

Meryl gasped out in pain. The blade had cut across her chest, directly in-between her two breasts as she skidded across the ground. Her hunting knife was now off in the far distance. Blood seeped through her tattered and torn t-shirt as she tried frantically to escape the hold the walkers had on her.

For the first time that day, Meryl couldn't help but to feel grateful as the two walkers lay sprawled across her – bullets embedded deep within their brains.

Hastily, she tossed the bodies away and panted heavily on the ground.

A young woman stood before her, gun raised and aimed directly at Meryl. After a few moments she was grabbing her bucket and running back through the woods, far away from her. Meryl sighed and got to her feet, walking slowly in the same direction in which she ran.

* * *

Shane grasped Lori's hand as he holstered her up from the ground and up onto her feet. She smiled and reached down for her necklace, fastening it around her neck before clutching Shane's forearm.

He smiled down at her. "We better get back."

"You got to let go of me then," Shane chuckled and glanced down towards Lori's hand on his arm. She blushed.

"I like it when your flustered," He gently caressed her cheek.

Lori shook her head. "Shane … Carl's waiting for me. We got to head back."

"What's the rush?" He bent down and slowly and teasingly kissed her jaw line. Lori groaned involuntarily at the pleasure that encased her.

She didn't stop him. "Those gunshots-"

"They where nothing. Just Amy being careless," he moved down to her collarbone, his hands sliding down her arms and to her waist. She moved herself closer and placed her hands on his chest before tilting her neck for easier access. Shane backed Lori up into a tree. She slid her hand under his shirt and traced his abdominal muscles. Before they could continue however, a cough from behind had them jumping apart immediately.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Shane pulled Lori behind him, gun raised.

"Is that anyway to treat an old friend, Officer _Dipshit?" _

He narrowed his eyes. "Lori, head back to camp."

"Sha-"

"Just do it!" Lori flinched and grabbed her bucket – the same bucket as the blonde girl from before, and ran into the trees. She glanced back briefly, giving Shane one last look before scurrying out of sight. Meryl chuckled and held her hands out in a calming gesture. He removed the safety of his gun.

"Meryl Dixon," He spat.

She smiled. "What gave me away?"

"Only one person has ever had the nerve to call me a dipshit," Meryl laughed.

"I like to make an interestin' first impression."

"That you do," Shane looked her over.

"How did you get out?"

"The door was open."

Shane scoffed. "You where handcuffed in a cell that could only be opened by an electronic pin code. Even with a power outage, you couldn't break free. So save me the bullshit and tell me how you broke out. The military left no survivors and yet, here you stand."

"I don't feel like tellin' yah. Especially if there's nothin' in it for me," Meryl walked two steps closer towards Shane. He crossed his arms against his chest.

"First aid. You can patch yourself up."

"Not interested."

"Afraid that's all you'll be getting then."

Meryl rolled her eyes. "Like I said, not interested. But I might have somethin' that could be of interest to yah."

"What would I want from someone like you?"

"Other than knowin' how I escaped your lil' cage? Information Walsh. Information for the dipshit and his skank."

Shane walked the short distance to her side and pulled her by the arm and pushed her down towards the ground. She yelled and reached for his ankles as he kicked her side. He bent down until he was straddling her. As he used his fists to punch her face, Meryl started flaying, scratching at Shane.

"Watch. Your. Tongue!"

He continued to pound down against her face and chest. The wound from earlier had opened back up and Meryl's temper was rising as the pain engulfed her. "Fuck you Walsh! Yah a fuckin' prick!"

After one last punch Shane stopped. He got off of Meryl has he stared down at her. "You know nothing! All you are is a liar, a thief and a murderer!

"I know your screwin' your best friends wife!"

Shane stopped and stared down at Meryl. "How would y-"

"Rick Grimes! I met him at the hospital! Told me all about his wife and son. How she had taken his wedding band. Showed me a photo even!"

"H-He's alive?"

For a brief moment, Shane looked deflated. Meryl smirked. "Clearly."

"What is it that you want from me?"

"I want for yah to let me in. Let me be apart of yah group."

"Do you know how great the risk would be if I let you into our camp?" Shane watched as Meryl scrambled to her feet.

"Much less then what it would be if you didn't."

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**Thanks for those who have read my story so far.**

**It' only a short chapter for today. Just using this as filler, I guess. Didn't want to keep to the original story line of Rick heading into Atlanta and finding Andrea and Glenn etc. Thought it would be interesting if Meryl was to find the group first and have leverage over Shane who was her arresting sheriff.**

**Please review :) I'd like to know what you think so far.**


	4. To Rot In Hell

**Chapter Four**

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**To Rot In Hell**

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"This wasn't apart of our deal!"

Once arriving at Shane's campsite, curious and frightened occupants came running forward. Asking who she was, what had happened and more importantly, why Shane had decided to handcuff her to the tow bar of Dale's RV. The elder male argued relentlessly, stating that she – Meryl, shouldn't be treated as a prisoner. She was a victim of a horrible crime and that he should have sympathy for the young woman.

Shane's response was to ignore Dale. Meryl, on the other hand, had a different idea.

"Come back yah bastard! I'm no fuckin' animal!"

"You ought to stop acting like one then."

He left Dale to take first watch as he stormed off to his car. He shouted something about collecting water to whoever would listen and drove off. Meryl spat at the ground and crossed her legs as she tried to get comfortable. Dale appeared apologetic as he brought over a spare fold up chair from inside the RV.

"Give him some time. He'll see reason."

Meryl scoffed and kicked at the ground. "Wouldn't hold my breath if I where yah."

They sat there in uncomfortable silence. Every so often Dale would glance down towards Meryl before concentrating on his book. He could tell Meryl was becoming more and more frustrated as the hours rolled by – no sign of Shane or the keys to her escape. He sighed.

"Somethin' on yah mind old man?"

Dale shook his head and closed his book. "Dinner should be just about done, I'm going to grab us a bite to eat."

If Meryl was excited over the prospect of having something to eat, she didn't show it. Instead, she stretched out her legs and tried tugging on her handcuffs.

She spotted tools nearby and grinned a sly grin.

Who needed dinner?

* * *

Everyone – except Meryl, had gathered around the small campfire. Shane and the others had since returned to camp and where enjoying their meal as they made small talk with one another, thanking both Amy and Andrea for the fish they had caught earlier that day. They smiled and brushed it off.

"I've missed this," Shane was the first one to admit. Everyone agreed and happily accepted a second helping from Carol. Morales looked over towards Dale.

"I've got to ask you man, it's been driving me crazy...that watch."

Dale laughed and asked: "What's wrong with my watch?"

"I see you everyday. Same time. Winding that thing like a village priest saying mass."

"Is that what we should be discussing? My watch?"

Shane shook his head, watching as Dale's eyes drifted towards Meryl. "She's a risk, Dale. You know the rule. We stick to the rule."

"What will happen to her?" Lori told Carl to be quiet.

"See what she knows. Try and get as much information from her as possible," Andrea nodded at this, alongside Morales, Amy, Carol and Jacqui.

"Who will speak with her? She's not much of a conversationalist."

Shane thought about this. "I'll have Daryl do it."

"He doesn't play well with others."

Carol indiscreetly glanced towards her tent and her husband Ed who lay inside. She thought about earlier today and how Shane almost killed him for touching her. She was quick to disagree, remembering the bruises on Meryl's face and body.

"Perhaps … perhaps it should be me."

Lori looked surprised. "I think we should all trust Shane on this. Dixon can take care of himself. If things go south, Shane or Rick can interfere. Isn't that right?"

After returning to camp with Meryl, Shane had immediately thrust her into Dale's care. He had taken his Jeep and drove into town, knowing very well that's the first place Rick would go. He hadn't meant to take him back to camp, back to his wife and son. His plans where to leave subtle hints in the direction Lori and Carl had taken, to steer Rick away from what he had built here - to what Lori and he had.

The plan was going smoothly until Glenn and T-Dog had stepped out of the convenience store, followed closely by Daryl and Rick.

The reunion was bittersweet.

Rick had thanked Shane profusely for looking after his wife and son; asking how they escaped Atlanta and if there where any signs of the military. Shane told him they would talk when they got back before hurrying back to camp, using the excuse that the others shouldn't be left alone without a trained shooter for too long. Daryl questioned his motives saying something didn't seem right. When everybody else seemed to agree, after informing Rick that Shane never comes to 'check up' on anyone during a mission, they decided to hike back – having abandoned their car to a herd of walkers who was fast approaching.

"Yeah, we'll keep a careful eye on Daryl," Amy stood and walked over to the RV.

"I still think we should reconsider."

Shane shook his head. "It's been decided. As soon as thei-"

A heart-clenching scream had everyone stopping in his or her tracks, including Meryl who was busy trying to pick the lock with a flat head screwdriver.

"What's goin' on?" She looked around, seeing nothing unusual.

That's when she heard it. She heard it without even having to see it.

Walkers were surrounding the campsite.

"WALSH!" Meryl pulled desperately against her binds.

She could hear the children screaming, calling out to their respective mothers. She could hear Shane yelling for everyone to grab their weapons and to stay together. She could hear Andrea's cries.

But this time, nobody heard her.

Meryl grabbed the screwdriver with her left hand and began maneuvering it around, trying to find the indentation of the key.

Walkers where fast approaching.

Shane was running by.

"HEY! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME HERE!"

He stopped briefly to see Meryl desperately trying to get out of her handcuffs. She shouted for Shane to watch out, signaling a walker behind him.

"DON'T LEAVE ME! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME LIKE THIS! HEY! SHANE! NO MAN, YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME HERE. NOT LIKE THIS!"

A bullet was embedded into the geeks head. Meryl tried pulling again but turned towards Shane for help. He looked conflicted.

"YOU CAN'T MAN! IT'S NOT HUMAN!"

Cursing, Shane ran towards her. He kicked a hacksaw close to her hand. "I don't have time for this shit! I'm not sacrificing myself for someone like you!"

He ran off leaving Meryl in hysterics. She was breathing heavily and begging for Shane to come back or for anyone to find her. For the time being she had no walkers drawn to her yelling so she sat there in despair, looking at her wrist.

She started panicking.

"No … no, no, n-no!" Using her left hand, she braced it just below her right elbow and began tugging abundantly. Her legs pushed against the side of the RV as she tried to fit her wrist through the cuff.

Her wrist was now bleeding but that didn't stop her. She begged and begged for god to have mercy on her soul. But when the walkers kept coming – a few coming towards her, she unfastened her belt and grasped the hacksaw.

"I'm not being punished!"

* * *

**I guess you already know what's going to happen next. I won't indulge those who don't but what happens is something I didn't want to take out from the series. It's essential for later chapters.**

**Hope you enjoy! I'll try and publish the next chapter ASAP :) **


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